


Baby Monitor

by SalmonCenter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Peter Parker, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalmonCenter/pseuds/SalmonCenter
Summary: Peter is Tony and Pepper's biological child and was kidnapped by HYDRA at a young age.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 28
Kudos: 257





	1. Tony Crumbles

Morgan H. Stark is the light of Tony’s life. More than that. He’s the Earth and Tony is an insignificant little moon. He’s the nucleus and Tony is an electron. A son to a father. Purpose wrapped up in a tiny blue onesie. 

He has to be advanced. Are newborns usually this expressive? Do they always have their dads wrapped around their tiny baby-fingers from the first minute? Yeah, Morgan is a little genius. Tony is sure of it. 

“He’s perfect,” Pepper murmurs, clearly exhausted from the hours-long labor. Tony doesn’t think she’s ever looked so beautiful, pale and sweaty but absolutely glowing. She holds her arms out. “Hand him over.”

“I don’t think so. Ever heard of father-son bonding?” Tony gazes down at the little boy. Morgan lifts his tiny fist up and steals Tony’s heart again. “We’re doing it, right now. Look at us. We’re bonding.” Suddenly, Morgan’s face crumples and he lets out a heart-wrenching wail.

“Oh no, Bambino. None of that. You want Mom, don’t you?” Handing Morgan off to Pepper is his first great act as a father.   
Morgan comes home to the safest, and most advanced nursery in the world. Every inch of his room is designed to monitor his every move. Every beat of his heart, every intake of his breath. Every milestone he hits is recorded and archived. Everyone who enters his room is photographed. Tony doesn’t sleep soundly, but it’s not because of anxiety. Morgan needs constant interaction or he screams his little head off. There’s always someone with him. Pepper, Tony, Happy, even Rhodey does some babysitting. 

“Hey man, I know they say you can’t spoil babies,” Rhodey starts one night when Tony has held Morgan for the better part of five hours. “But it’s not a contest, alright? You can put him down for a few minutes. Take a bathroom break.”

“I’m sorry, who do you think I’m holding here?” Tony feigns offence. He stands up with Morgan securely in his arms. “This isn’t just any baby. This is _the_ Morgan Stark. Son of a billionaire philanthropist, heir to an enormous fortune, future child genius. You’re right about one thing, though.” 

Rhodey raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s not a contest.”

Morgan is advanced. It’s not just a compliment anymore, he’s really, really advanced. It takes everything Tony has to let the doctors poke and prod his son for a few hours for the results. Pepper holds his hand tightly while Morgan fidgets in a stroller, the man in front of them way too stern to be a child psychologist. 

“You should be very proud of Morgan, Mr. Stark. Ms. Potts. Morgan tested in the ninety-ninth percentile for general development. Congratulations.” He drones one, flipping through page after page of assessment. 

“Alright,” Tony stands up. Pepper tries to pull him back down. “Are we done here? Morgan’s got a nap he needs to get to. A really important nap.” Morgan’s little hands reach up towards him. 

“Uh. Uh. Uh.” He grunts, lips not quite touching enough to complete the word. It’s not rocket science though, and it wouldn’t matter if it was. Tony picks his son up. He’s got this parenting thing figured out

Morgan can say three words before he’s eight months old. They’re not all perfect, but they’re good enough for his most attentive caregivers to figure out. There’s “Up,” one of his favourites. “No” is a close second, and “More” comes out during feedings. His little limbs are still jerky and uncoordinated, but his brain works at a mile a minute. Tony couldn’t be prouder when his son picks up his first plastic wrench and swings it around, copying his father. 

When Morgan starts walking, Stark Tower undergoes a major renovation. Everything that can be baby-proofed is, and the Baby Monitor protocol is updated to lock every unsafe cabinet that Morgan approaches. There were some things that they missed, of course, and that becomes clear when Morgan manages to find the elevator and make his way all the way down to the basement before FRIDAY alerts anyone.

“Master Stark has Diamond Privileges. He is allowed access to any room within the tower.” FRIDAY drones on while Tony scoops up the toddling boy. Morgan shrieks _No_ in protest.

“Update that. He has Baby Privileges. Any room in the tower that an adult is already in, and no more joyrides.” 

“Creating the Baby Privileges rank.”

“You do that,” Tony says, bringing Morgan back up to his lab. He watches as the toddler tries the elevator again. It doesn’t open this time, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

None of them can cope with the press conference. They get an intern to do it, someone who hasn’t even met Morgan. Tony is busy. Pepper is busy. Everyone is busy. They should be, at least. Anyone found just standing around is immediately dismissed, sometimes violently. Everyone but Happy is replaced on the security team. The entirety of California is searched.   
Tony spends his time scouring security footage and vomiting in the bathroom, pale and sleep-deprived. Pepper has been creating new initiates, new organizations for lost children. Kidnapped children. Rhodey talks to the police for them, a messenger between two frantic groups. 

They blink and it’s been a week. The only clues are an open window and a _missing fucking baby._

A month passes with nothing. Not even a profile. No one announces that they’re looking for a body, but the police stop carrying pacifiers and blankets. 

Pepper hugs him for the first time in six weeks and Tony crumbles. 

Pepper still re-decorates his room. The crib is gradually updated to a toddler bed, and then a daybed. The toys change from rattles to action-figures to boardgames. She keeps everything, even retrieving what the police took as evidence all those years ago. There’s a general theme to the bedroom, always science and engineering. It’s all they have of him. 

Tony keeps updating the baby monitor protocol. It’s not active anymore, but the moment Friday sees Morgan, the lower cabinets will lock again. Then, the upper cabinets. No one can use the stove without a code. Or there’ll be a curfew. Tony curses God for taking these experiences from him, but no one ever answers. 

Rhodey bakes a cake every year. It’s depressing to watch the candles crowd the cake without anyone to blow them out. He doesn’t stop, though, even when Morgan hits double-digits. 

Happy keeps toys in the dashboard of his car. They’re always age-appreciated, updating as often as Pepper does with his room. Now, he keeps a rubix cube in his cub holder and a game-boy under the seat. 

Natasha starts carrying around a picture of him, tucked into her left shoe. She’s got a soft spot for kidnapped kids. Who would’ve guessed? They don’t talk about it, but she does a double-take every time a curly-haired boy walks past her, just in case. 

Bruce knows Morgan’s assessment results by heart. He finds them one day in the lab and is thoroughly impressed. He figures that at ten years old, Morgan should already be in high school. Maybe even starting college. 

Steve does voice-overs for Pepper’s new organizations, urging everyone to report suspicious activity. If you see something, say something. It’s even more important now. More personal.

Clint stays up with Tony on the anniversary since he has the most experience with this kind of thing. They talk about the responsibility of fatherhood and get drunk, ultimately crying together. No one mentions that later, though. 

Thor is positive that Morgan is out there somewhere, being raised by a new family. Perhaps he is a God now. Children aren’t just abandoned, he says. Take Loki for example. Wait, maybe not the best example. 

As alone as Tony feels, he is surrounded by those who care. It’s comforting to know that everyone is still looking for Morgan.


	2. Be Cool

Tony Stark doesn’t miss things. Not even when everything around him is chaotic. His brain filters through it all, only dumping what’s not absolutely important in that very moment. Sure, FRIDAY helps, but he didn’t become a multimillionaire because of some smart AI.

“I’ve got the door open! Watch for HYDRA’s Goons.” Natasha knew the code, of course.

“Getting them as they come out, Nat. You’re good to go.” Clint takes down agent after agent as they stream out of the hallway. There’s an explosion somewhere in the distance.

“We need you, Tony. Two lefts, then a right.” Steve grunts through the intercom, but Tony is already there. 

“Right behind you. Duck, old man.” Tony aims and shoots, blowing a new hole in the wall and taking down five men with it. A blur escapes from the room and lands on Steve. “You look busy. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you- Damn it!” Steve shouts as the blur kicks his legs out from under him.

“Language, Cap.” Natasha’s voice rings out from somewhere down the hall. She cocks her gun. “I’ve got him. Try to stay still.”

_Baby Monitor Protocol is in effect._

“Yeah, I’m not exactly going anywhere.” Steve is pinned to the ground by some sort of white net. A shot rings out, but the kid is too fast for her. Too fast? How is he too fast?

Natasha gasps in surprise when a suit tackles her to the ground. 

“What the Hell, Stark?” She’s fighting an old Mark 30 when Clint makes his way to them, looking just as confused. 

Baby Monitor protocol. Oh my _God._

“Morgan?” Tony almost whispers. He doesn’t miss the way the kid’s head whips around to look at him, eyes wide. No, Tony Stark doesn’t miss things. He doesn’t waste time, either, and the kid is in his arms in a second, struggling against the hard metal. “Clean up, guys.”

His voice is shaky even through the intercom. 

Morgan is strong. Way too strong. He’s denting Tony’s suit with his teeth and throwing them both against the wind with the way he thrashes. There’s just as much fear as there is love coursing through him right now. Questions swirl through his mind. First thing’s first. 

“Hey! Hey! Come on, kid, settle down!” Tony yells, ignoring the SHIELD agents on his tail. “If we fall now, we’re both getting hurt!” Morgan’s eyes glance down and he suddenly becomes still, gripping the suit instead of struggling against it. Still, his fingers dig into the metal. “There you go. Don’t bother the pilot, yeah? We’ll be home in no time.” Does Morgan remember home? 

It only takes another minute for Pepper to call, and Tony picks up as they’re soaring across the ocean. 

“The stove won’t turn on. There’s only one protocol in your entire security system that keeps the stove from turning on, and it’s not even for Earthquake safety. What’s happening?” Pepper’s voice wavers. “FRIDAY turned on the Baby Monitor, Tony. And you’re at a HYDRA base.”

“Where else did you think he was hiding out? Granted, I didn’t think of it, but Morgan’s always been advanced.” Morgan looks back up at him again, frowning. “Call you back.”

“Tony, don’t you dare-” Pepper’s voice cuts off just as they land. 

Morgan slithers out of his grasp immediately and it’s the first time Tony really gets a good look at him. He’s wearing a ridiculous dark onesie that covers him from the neck down, and he’s sporting some pretty impressive dark circles under his eyes. He looks small, too. Skinny. Underfed? 

He doesn’t look hurt. Just wary. 

“Report, FRIDAY” Tony prompts before retracting his mask. There’s a flicker of familiarity in Morgan’s eyes when his face appears. 

_My analysis shows a 98% probability of the child being Morgan Stark. His heart rate remains high. He is likely enhanced, Mr. Stark._

Great. And now he looks like he’s ready to bolt. It occurs to Tony that this isn’t how he ever imagined being reunited with Morgan, but it’s not the time for that. Not when he hears the sound of helicopter blades in the distance. Does he even remember how to be a Dad? First step, stop scaring your son. The suit opens up and he steps out, kneeling in front of the small boy.

“You’ve got two choices, kid. Either you book it and these guys-” He jerks his thumb up at the helicopter circling them, “Burn down all of Manhattan looking for you. Or, you come with Mom and Dad to the big shiny building and live happily ever after.” 

Morgan looks at Stark Tower and then squints at the floodlights coming down from the sky. It’s not really a hard decision. No Pros and Cons list needed. When Morgan takes his hand, it all comes back. 

Pepper is waiting for them at the front entrance, practically frantic when she sees Morgan. 

“Be cool,” Tony warns, and Pepper looks between them before nodding and wiping her eyes. “Pepper, Morgan. Morgan, Pepper.” He introduces, but Morgan only looks more confused. “Why don’t you stay with Mom while I lock this place down?”

It takes some effort to pry Morgan’s hand out of his own, but it’s so worth it when he starts clinging to Pepper instead. She leads him to the elevator while Tony pulls out his tablet. 

“Friday, I want the tower emptied of any non-essential personnel. Other than that, no one gets in our out. Got it?” He declines three consecutive calls from Fury. 

_Affirmative, Boss. Stark Towers is entering lockdown._ The lights dim for a second before coming back on. Tony finally accepts the call.

“Tony, tell me you don’t have a HYDRA assassin in Stark Tower.” Fury grinds out. 

“I don’t have a HYDRA assassin in Stark Tower. Are we done?” Tony answers, watching Pepper and Morgan on the security cameras. She’s already got him in a new outfit and sat at the table, eating cheerios. 

“We’re not doing this. I have eyewitnesses, Tony! You have to follow protocol and-” Tony hangs. It’s getting easier and easier to end calls early. He shrugs. Maybe it’s a Dad thing. 

When he gets to the top floor Morgan is on the sofa with Pepper. Morgan is staring at him, and Pepper is staring at Morgan. 

“Hey, Shortround. How were the Cheerios?” Tony sits at the bar, only a few feet away. 

“Peter,” Pepper says quietly. Tony looks up. “This is Peter. HY- They call him Peter. He prefers it.” 

“Oh.” Tony isn’t easily surprised. Leave it to his son to throw a curveball. Peter, eh? Not a bad name. Not quite like Morgan, but beggars can’t be choosers. Tony figures that he and Pepper are on the same page. What does a name really matter? “Peter, then. Welcome home.”

It’s only when Peter falls asleep in his bed that Tony finally _breathes._ Neither of them leave the room, but Pepper hugs him while they both cry. 

Morgan- No, Peter doesn’t actually sleep through the night. He falls asleep for half an hour before making himself at home on the ceiling. That’s right. The ceiling. Pepper nudged Tony awake and they both watched him climb up the side of the wall and settle himself into a corner. 

“You didn’t tell me-” Pepper murmured, but Tony beats her to it. 

“I didn’t know. I mean, he gave Cap a run for his money. But I didn’t see him do __

_this._ ” Peter watches them from his corner, eyes narrowed. 

“Well, he can’t stay up there. Peter?” Pepper is as professional as ever, even when she’s coaxing a ten-year-old from his hiding spot on the ceiling into her arms. Peter jumps down obediently, clinging once again to his Mom. She’s not even holding him up. He’s sticking to her. “Can’t sleep? That’s alright, sweetheart. How about another snack? More Cheerios?” Peter’s face lights up at the mention of cereal and Tony follows them to the kitchen. It’s weird, he realizes, how quickly they’ve fallen back into their old roles of Mom and Dad. Especially under the current circumstances. Then again, what else can they do?

They watch him eat for a while, entranced as he finishes off a whole family-sized box of cereal. Tony makes a mental note to check out his kid’s metabolism while Pepper writes a real note to buy more Cheerios. 

“Thanks.” Peter croaks when the bowl is empty, pushing it towards the opposite end of the bar. It’s the first thing he’s said all day. Pepper smiles at him. He’s absolutely tiny now in the oversized pajamas, clearly much smaller than Pepper had anticipated he would be. He looks like he wants to say more, but just looks down at his lap instead. 

“So, what’s the deal?” Tony breaks the silence, much to everyone’s surprise. Why are they surprised? “HYDRA kidnaps the Stark kid and- what, pumps him full of glue?” They look at him with blank faces. “You’re sticky, kid!” Pepper elbows him in the ribs. Hard. 

“Peter. Not Stark.” Peter mumbles, hands wrapping around himself before he looks to Pepper for help. Her face pales slightly. 

“Oh. I don’t,” She pulls Tony close for a moment, whispering. “I don’t think he remembers us. He doesn’t remember his name.”

“Sure he does. Morgan Stark!” Tony’s voice is louder than it needs to be, and Peter winces. There’s also a clear jerk of his eyes towards Tony at the sound of his name. What was once his name. “They just got in here.” He leans across the bar and taps on Peter’s head. Peter just watches him with wide eyes. “Didn’t they, kid? But we’ll pull you back out.”


	3. Little Spider

It only takes three hours for Natasha to break in. Sure, FRIDAY alerts them, but ten minutes too late. She’s already greeted them by then, sat down for something to drink and ready for an interrogation. 

“He’s definitely mine. Goatee and all.” Tony won’t let her into Peter’s bedroom and she’s being polite. 

“Your technology isn’t perfect, Stark, and Hydra has gotten great at deception over the years.” Natasha counters, sipping on apple juice. Baby Monitor Protocol rid Stark Tower of alcohol hours ago. “He’s enhanced.”

“And he’s sleeping. Let’s continue this tomorrow?” Tony tries to lead her off the stool, but she’s not budging. 

“I have orders. I’m not going anywhere.” Natasha only gets up to lay back down on the sofa. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

Tony has FRIDAY keep an eye on the super spy (the one in the living room) and finds Pepper curled up with Peter, running her fingers through his curly hair. Tony climbs in next to them, surrounding the tiny boy. It took him a minute to notice the tears streaming down her face. 

“I can’t believe he’s here.” Pepper whispers as quietly as she can manage, taking Tony’s hand in her own. “He’s never leaving again. Promise me that.”

“I promise, Pep. Morgan is home.”

Peter wakes up a few hours later breathing hard, eyes wide and body damp with sweat. He tries to push himself out from in between his parents, and God, he’s pretty strong. Tony feels the pressure hard against his ribs. 

“Geez, Pete, thanks for the wake-up call.” Tony mumbles, surprised to see that it’s only midnight. Peter freezes before relaxing slightly into the bed. Not nearly enough, though. “What’s up?” 

Peter says nothing, just fidgets on his custom-made day bed, legs squirming. 

“Alright. I know that look. I’m still a Dad, you know. You never lose your instincts.” Tony stands up, stretching for a minute before continuing. “Up and at ‘em. Bathroom’s behind that door.” Peter is still silent, seemingly frozen on the bed. He’s looking around like it’s his first time in a bedroom. “Alright, then. Duty calls.” Tony sighs and leans over, hooking his arms under Peter’s armpits and lifting him. He’s frighteningly light.

Once they get to the bathroom (not that it’s been a journey; the bathroom is only ten feet away), there’s another problem. Peter is seriously sticky Tony can’t pry him off and sit him on the toilet. He’s clinging to Tony like he’s his lifeline, face pressed against his chest. 

“Hey, Pepper?” He calls out. Pepper’s up in a moment. “I need some help here. Maybe a crowbar?

“A what?” Pepper frowns at him before smiling brightly at Peter. Peter just stares back. 

“You know. To pry him off? That was a good one, Pep.” Tony and Pepper spend this next five or so minutes pulling, prying, and pleading with Peter to just _let go,_ and sit on the toilet. Tony’s definitely not panicking, not worried at all that his son is about to have an accident all over him. And the floor. 

“Отпусти, Паук, _Let go, Spider,_ ” Natasha’s voice rings out. Whatever she says, it’s gotta be bad. Peter shudders and lets go suddenly, arms going limp. Pepper catches him before he hits the floor, and Tony glares at the super spy. Again, the taller one. “Хороший мальчик. _Good boy._ ” 

“Pepper, you good?” Tony asks even though he knows the answer. Peter’s always on the toilet. Tony’s eyes narrow and he pushes Nat out of the room. The bathroom. That his son is using. “Move it, Oktober.” He shuts the door behind them, then herds her back into the living room. 

“You said you’d wake me up.” Natasha almost accuses, but Tony’s not having it.

“We’re not doing this. This is my _son._ He’s not an experiment. Stay out of his head.” He growls. He’s really doing a great job at being intimidating. Until Peter runs out of the bedroom, that is, and right into Nat’s lap. 

It takes Tony a while to figure out what’s going on. To process everything he’s seeing. To cope with his son snuggling up in Natasha’s arms. Speaking Russian. Fluent Russian. They’re having their own weird little assassin conversation while Tony and Pepper watch from a distant, sipping on coffee. It’s not like they’ll be getting any sleep anyway. 

“Мы все ждали тебя, маленький паук, _We've all been waiting for you, little spider,_ ” Natasha speaks quickly and rocks Peter from side to side. Tony’s seething. “Где ты была? Всем было интересно. _Where have you been? Everyone was interested._ ”

“Ты отвезешь меня домой, Черная Вдова? _Will you take me home, Black Widow?_ ” Peter’s voice is sing-song and sweet. He gazes at Nat in a way he won’t with his own parents. It’s not fair. They haven’t had enough time to spoil him, yet, and not Nat is- What? Telling him bedtime stories?

“Ты сейчас дома. Наслаждайтесь этим, вы никогда не получите лучшего. _You're home now. Enjoy it, you'll never get a better one._ ” She responds, gesturing to the room around them. 

“What’s she saying?” Pepper whispers. Tony scoffs. He doesn’t speak Manipulative-SHIELD-Agent. 

“My home.” Peter announces. They all stare. Alright, super hearing. Super speed. Super strength. Super sticky. Nothing they can’t cope with. He’s quieter when he speaks again. “I will stay here.” 

“Да. _Yes._ ” Natasha responds, smoothing the boy’s hair down. It doesn’t work. His curls just spring back up. 

“Da indeed,” Tony adds, just to hear his own voice for a change. “We’re Mom and Dad, remember?” He walks around the bar and sits on the sofa opposite the two. “And you’re Morgan. Or Peter. Hell, I’d even call you Sticky, but Pepper might throw a fit.”

“Peter is fine.” Pepper interrupts, sitting down beside Tony. Peter squirms out of Natasha’s grasp and over the coffee table, into Pepper’s waiting arms. Mama’s boy. “If that’s what you’d like to be called.”

“They called him Little Spider at the base, or _Malenky Pauk._ You would’ve known that if you had stuck around. We found his files.” Natasha is clearly still miffed about the whole Mark 30 attacking her. “Codename Peter for missions.” 

“So,” Pepper begins slowly, gazing down at the small boy who seems oblivious on his lap. “Is this a mission?”

“It might be, but we know that they didn’t see us coming. He might think he’s on a mission.” Natasha’s voice is cold and emotionless. “It could be his way of coping. Choose the best option, survive, and go back home.”

“He _is_ home!” Tony pounds his fist on the coffee table. He knows what’s going to be said before anyone’s mouth opens.

“You should do a DNA test.” 

“We need a blood test.”

“I don’t need a doctor to tell me who my son is.” It all comes out at once. Peter looks up at Pepper and frowns before clambering off of her lap and into Tony’s. “Look at his arms. He’s not getting poked by another needle. Not while I’m around.”


	4. Talkative

Ultimately, Tony wins the argument. As much as it would help with keeping Fury away, he isn’t willing to give up his hands-off policy. 

“Hands-off, Romanoff.” He says when Natasha reaches out to ruffle Peter’s hair. “I’ve got a tired kid here with super-powers. We don’t want to see him cranky.”

“No. We don’t.” Natasha’s answer holds more weight than his does. Peter actually falls back asleep and Tony banishes Nat to the living room (for the second time). 

“Fury’s doing damage control.” She says as she slides a folder over to them. Tony’s surprised that it’s a physical copy. “We’re still decrypting the rest.”

“Damage control? I thought he was busy breaking in.” Tony frowns. The records are disturbingly detailed. There are hundreds of blood draws, all from just the last week. Test after test that measured DNA replication, Histamine production, and a few others that none of them recognized. “Bruce will have to translate this.”

“He’s enhanced,” Natasha points out, ignoring the way Tony shrugs. “And well trained. Is it safe for him to be here?”

“He’s safe here.” Pepper’s answers curtly before leaving the room. 

Peter wakes up at oh-dark-thirty but doesn’t leave his room, or even his bed. Pepper has to get him into the bathroom and dress him. Pliable, but scared. Observing, mainly. His face lights up when he sees Tony at the bar and Pepper helps him onto the stool. 

“So, kid,” Tony starts when Pepper pours them both a bowl of Lucky Charms. “Big day. Shopping, tour of Stark Tower, maybe a movie. How’s that sound?” It’s surreal to be sitting down at breakfast with his family again. His entire family. 

“Yes.” Peter nods, pushing the empty bowl away from him and looking expectantly at Pepper. She hands him an apple. Then another one. Then a banana. Another glass of milk. 

“Alright, Sticky. I’m cutting you off.” Tony lifts him away from the second banana he’s reaching for. “Time to start the day. There’s more to life than eating, you know.” Peter just huffs, seeming unconvinced. Nonetheless, he still clings to Tony, hands around his neck and legs wrapped behind his back. Pepper follows close behind, sneaking him little crackers just in case he really is hungry. 

“Living room. Balcony. Conference room. Your room, can’t forget that. The elevator’s pretty interesting.” They take it twenty floors down. Tony rocks Peter from side to side and almost loses it when he catches Pepper’s gaze. Keep it together, Stark. No crying in front of Peter. 

“The lab is a great place. You used to love it here.” Tony’s breath hitches for a moment. He hugs Peter tighter against his chest. “I can set up a spot for you. If this is your kind of thing. What am I saying? Of course it is!” 

“Your dad does this sort of thing for fun. What do you like to do for fun, Sweetheart?” Pepper asks gently, hand on his cheek. That’s when Tony learns something new about his son. Something brand-new. Something that he might wish was different in the future, but his son is home and that’s all that matters. Peter is quiet until he isn’t. 

“Computers. And building,” Peters starts, encouraged by Pepper’s warm face. “I’ve built all sorts of things. I built the web-shooters almost by myself. And I like knife throwing.” Tony’s glad they both have amazing poker faces. “One time I threw a knife so far and it still hit the target. He was moving, too.” It’s so worth it to hear his voice again. Even if he’s saying this. 

“We’ll have to get you- a computer. Yes, a computer.” Pepper’s voice is shaky. 

“I’ve never seen a suit like yours before. The big robot? Did you build it for fun? Can I have one?” Peter is looking past them at the suits that line the walls. He doesn’t look for their reactions. “Usually I can bite anything. Through metal, even. But I couldn’t bite through you.”

“Whoa, Pete. How’d you find your voice?” Tony sets him down, tugging at his hands to get them to unstick from his shirt. 

“I guess I didn’t know I was supposed to be talking,” He takes Tony’s hand immediately. “And she said that I was staying here.”

“Nat did?” Tony asks. Peter nods, taking another cracker from Pepper. “She’s right. Don’t count on that being a pattern, though. What else did she tell you?”

“Just that I live here now, I guess.” He shrugs. “That there’s no better place to live, so I’m lucky.”

“Who taught you Russian, dear?” Pepper interjects, pulling Peter’s attention from the miniature arc reactor on the table. 

“I don’t remember. Don’t you know Russian?” He looks surprised as if it’s common knowledge. 

“Nyet, kid. You weren’t born in Russia, either.” Tony leads them all back to the elevator. 

“Oh. Where was I born?” Peter holds his arms out and Tony picks him back up. Carrying Peter is probably Tony’s favorite thing. Ever.

“Saint John’s Hospital. You were a week early.” 

“She would know. She had the great privilege of pushing you out.” Tony dodges Pepper’s elbow. Peter is silent, and it seems like that’s probably a bad sign.

“I thought you were lying.” His voice is small. 

“About being Mom and Dad? Sorry, kid, you’re stuck with us.” Tony rubs his back and waits for the elevator to open again. It takes over an hour for them to finish the tour, and that’s excluding thirty-two rooms. They end up back in the sitting room just outside of Peter’s bedroom and darts away from Tony to sit on the sofa. 

“Does it turn on?” Peter points to the TV. 

“Sure it does. FRIDAY, put on something for the kid.” Tony directs, 

_Of course, Boss. There is a Renaissance Documentary that fits all of Morgan’s stated interests._

“Peter, FRIDAY.” Pepper murmurs from behind the sofa. She hands him a juice box.   
_Name Updated. Peter Howard Stark._ Peter doesn’t even look slightly surprised at the disembodied voice above them. His eyes are trained on the TV.

“Do they have one of these at HYDRA? If they do, I’m getting rid of this one.” Tony tries his best to sound offended. Pepper just snorts from behind them. 

“An intercom? Yeah, sorry.” Peter mumbles absentmindedly.

“FRIDAY isn’t an intercom! 

“Oh, Lord.” Pepper groans.


	5. Banner

Peter is thoroughly engrossed in the Documentary when Fury calls again. Tony and Pepper sit at the bar together and answer the call.

“Stark speaking. You’re on speaker.” Tony greets him, keeping an eye on Peter. “What’s up?”

“Is he in the room?” Fury sounds pissed. That’s about right. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific. We’ve got the whole family here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“He’s watching TV.”

“I’m being lenient considering the circumstances, but you have to work with me a little bit.”

“No, I don’t. We can make this public. The law is on our side, and I think you know that.” It’s weird to be working within the bounds of the law for once. 

“A cheek swab would confirm that.”

“Let me guess. You want his DNA? Making another super soldier already?” 

“You can keep it in Stark Tower. Humor me.”

“Send Banner.”

Bruce greets him nervously, dark circles under his eyes. At least Tony can be sure he won’t look at Peter like an experiment. That would hit too close to home. Still, he approaches Peter with caution. 

“Morgan - Or Peter, right?” Bruce asks, setting down his bag and kneeling in front of the small boy. “My name is Bruce Banner. It’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand. Peter looks to his parents before taking it. 

“Peter. Yeah.” His voice is much quieter than it was an hour ago. Reserved. He’s just as cautious as Bruce. 

“Your mom and dad asked me to run a test. Have you ever had a cheek swab?” Bruce is deliberate with his movements, letting Peter see exactly what he’s doing. He pulls out a wrapped cotton swab and a tube. “It doesn’t hurt at all. I just rub this on the inside of your cheek.”

“I’ve done it before.” Peter nods, shifting on the sofa. 

“Alright. Open up.” Bruce unwraps the swab and waits until Peter has opened his mouth about a centimeter. “Deep breath. Just a quick swab.” It’s over before it even starts, and Peter’s face remains stone cold. “Thank you. I’ll be in the lab.”

“Tony see you there.” Pepper offers, with a knowing glance to Tony. He just nods in return, following Bruce to the elevator and down to the lab. 

“Well, it’s definitely Morgan, but you knew that.” Bruce squints at the screen in front of him while Tony tosses a pen from hand to hand. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“It looks like it’s more than Morgan. I went through some of the files last night. It looks like they-” He begins, rubbing a hand against his face.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Tony interrupts, setting the pen down. “Just tell me what I need to know. As a father.” Bruce looks surprised. Then again, they met after the disappearance. Few of the people they knew today had ever seen him with his son. 

“Whatever you’ve been feeding him, triple it.” Bruce begins, leaning back in his chair. “He’s not going to thermoregulate very well. He was trained as an assassin, more or less. That’s something to look out for.”

“More or less?” 

“He didn’t always comply, according to the data. Enhanced strength, enhanced hearing, enhanced reflexes. Almost everything’s been enhanced. He’s got a sort of sixth-sense for danger. It’s going to be hard to keep SHIELD away.”

“You kept them away,” Tony stands up, stretching. “You hid for years. Sure, I’m not that great at being inconspicuous, but I’m willing to make a few exceptions now.” He pats Bruce on the back suddenly, keeping an eye out when he flinches. “Anything else?”

“Unless you’re going to provide a blood sample, that’s all we’ve got.” Bruce tosses him a flash drive. “A copy. Fury’s keeping the originals. How’s he doing?”

“He’s coping. Nat thinks he’s treating this like a mission. He ate, though. Slept. Speaks Russian.” Tony begins, picking the pen back up and twirling it between his fingers. “Where’ve you been staying?”

As much as Bruce protests that he’s not that kind of doctor, that he’s really not qualified to be an on-call pediatrician, much less for a human spider hybrid, he does accept the offer to stay in Stark Tower for the foreseeable future. He weighs Peter that day and measures his height, then retreats to the 14th floor to give them some privacy. 

They eat a real dinner together that night, serving Peter what they’ve affectionately named a “Captain’s Portion.” Bruce and Pepper discuss politics while Tony helps Peter cut his steak. He’s not great at using utensils, sort of stabbing at the meat and pushing it around instead of really getting it to his mouth. Tony resorts to offering him food like he would a toddler, even though it takes a great deal longer to finish. No one’s in much of a rush. An hour and a half later, Peter’s in a new pair of better-fitting pajamas and sitting on Tony’s lap on the sofa. 

Pepper’s pressed against Tony and typing furiously on her phone, ordering new clothes and having paperwork filled out. Peter’s eyes are trained on the TV but he’s not relaxed, still tense and aware of every move they make. Like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like he’s waiting to fulfil his mission. He’s on a rollercoaster heading up, but there’s never going to be a downhill. Tony will make sure of that.


	6. The Shoe Drops (Quietly)

Peter spends the next day in the lab as Tony’s shadow, talkative again. He spends most of his time on the wall, upside down and babbling about almost nothing. 

“It’s much better on the ceiling, you know. A bird’s eye view. I can see everything. You should really try it.”

“I’m not sticky, kid.”

“You don’t need to be sticky. I made this stuff- Well, they sort of made it for me, but I know how to make it again. I could make some for you. I can make it better, even.”

“Stuff. The stuff you used on Rogers?” Tony glances up fast enough to see Peter nod.

“Yeah. Web. I call it web. They call it _akticheskaya pautina._ Kind of a mouthful, you know? Web is better. Do you still have the shooters?”

Tony tosses up the small black devices, each one going in a different direction. Somehow, they both end up in Peter’s hands. He hooks them around his wrists and climbs to the other side of the lab. 

“Do you want to see?”

“The stage is all yours, Bambino.” Tony offers, shutting down the virtual screens in front of him. “Let’s see what you can do.”

It’s almost too fast for his eyes to track. Peter’s descent is slower. Tony worries that the thin strands won’t hold his weight but they do, and he’s swinging upwards to his original spot on the ceiling. There’s a cobweb-like material now hanging from the ceiling, one that Peter is now flicking back and forth with his finger.

“I heard they had a Hell of a time getting this stuff off of Rogers. Does it stick to you?” Tony holds his arms out for Peter to drop down into them. 

“Yeah. I have to be careful.” Peter releases from the ceiling (without any discernible movement) and ends up clinging to Tony’s shirt. “It dissolves after a little while. An hour or so. It just disappears. Can I have a snack?”

“Sure, kid. Raisins?”

As much as Peter knows, there’s also so much he doesn’t know. He knows advanced chemistry and engineering but calls a wrench “the turny thing” and calls welding “fire glue.” He knows more pop-culture references than Tony but can’t tie his own shoes. Pepper buys him velcro slip-ons. 

“We need Salicylic Acid.” He directs, wearing way too much protective gear. The lab coat looks ridiculous on him. “Touline and Methanol. Are you writing this down?” 

“FRIDAY’s got it. Keep going.” Tony calls out, rifling through the cabinets. He’s not the best chemist, but he’ll learn. 

“Do you have one of those burny plates? They get really, really hot. You know. To make it boil.” 

“A hot plate. Yeah, it’s somewhere around here.”

It only takes them half an hour to set up a decent enough work station, but the entire process will take more than a day to complete. They eat in the lab and Bruce even comes around to help, impressed with Peter’s knowledge. They manage to get him on the scale again even though it means taking all of the gear off, which Peter has become attached to. 

“I can have the goggles back, right? And the mask? Where are you putting it?” His voice is high pitched and anxious. “Because I’ll need them for tomorrow, right?”

“They’re right on the table. This will only take a minute.” Bruce’s voice is firm but comforting. It means nothing to Peter. 

“No, hold on! Just let me- I’ll put them in my room, alright? Is that alright?” He looks to Tony desperately. “It’s my room, isn’t it? Because I’m staying here?”

“Yeah, kid. You’re staying here. Calm down.” Tony tries to soothe his fears. It doesn’t seem to be working. “We can put them in your room, I promise.”

“Just let me-” Peter whines, and the rest happens in slow motion. Peter tries to get past Bruce, away from the scale, and Bruce puts a hand out. Not to hit him. It’s a reflex. Tony puts his hands out, too, without thinking, but Peter is faster than them. His teeth sink into Bruce’s forearm, and the arm recoils. Peter’s gone. He’s gone from the room, and Bruce is gasping for breath. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. My fault. He’s got- instincts. We shouldn’t have pushed.” Bruce rolls his sleeve up and examines the puncture wounds. “Go. I’ll- Disinfect this.”

Peter’s in his room - go figure, on the ceiling, trembling. Tony doesn’t look up when he comes inside, just sits down on the bed and smooths out the comforter. It’s blue and green, solid lines. Not a child’s comforter but not indented for an adult, either. All the books call this a transition time. Oh, how right they are. 

“Banner’s had a whole lot worse, you know. He’ll live through a little gnawing. Didn’t even phase him.” Tony lays down but avoids looking at Peter. “I bet it’s a whole lot harder than just stepping on the scale. We didn’t really think about that. We should have.” 

“You should have.” Peter echoes. 

“Did they ever weigh you?”

“Sometimes. They did a lot of x-rays. Am I in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble. Underweight, though.”

“What?” Peter crawls into his view. “What’s underweight?”

“You’re skinny. Short. Haven’t you noticed.?” Tony sits up and holds his arms out. Peter falls into them. “Bruce wants to make sure you’re gaining weight. Growing, and all that.”

“Oh. Am I?” Peter’s curious now.

“Let’s find out.”

He is, as it turns out. He’s one pound heavier than he was the day before. Bruce gives them both a kind smile and lets Peter inspect the bite wound, only satisfied when it’s decorated with about a thousand band-aids. Pepper gasps at the carnage. She scolds Peter, but her words hold no weight to them. 

“No more biting. No one in this room is allowed to do any more biting.” She smiles down at Peter and pulls him close. “I missed you all day. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! We’re making web fluid! It’s gonna be so cool. I have to show you. We’re even making it better! It’ll be stronger this time. And stickier. Do you have crackers in your purse? Can I have some?”


	7. Black Widow

Natasha uses the front door this time, and she brings gifts with her. Peter practically tackles her down and clings to her when she stumbles. 

“Hello, Черная вдова _Black Widow_!” He yells, grinning. “You came back!” It’s a relationship that Tony can’t even begin to understand. 

“Hey, Паучок _Spiderling_! Long time no see!” Nat drops her bags and twirls him around. “I heard you  
bit Banner. Good for you.” Peter ducks his head. 

“I bit Dad too, but he had the suit on.” Peter glances over at his parents. 

“Dented it pretty good, though. I was impressed.” Tony chimes in. “Is this a friendly visit?” Pepper pulls Peter off of Natasha and brings him to the elevator. “You’ve got a lot of bags.” There are three, each one stuffed with what looks like page after page of loose-leaf paper. 

“Stuff that SHIELD hasn’t digitized yet. I figured it would do you more good.” Natasha shrugs. “I wanted to see the kid, too.”

“Why?” Tony’s firm. Insistent. “Why are you two so- close? Not that I don’t want Peter to have friends. I just never imagined his first one would be a HYDRA Assassin.”

“ _Former_ HYDRA assassin.” She corrects, “And the only one here that really knows what he’s been through. That’s why he likes me.” Tony hates how right she is. How much Peter has suffered. How they’ll never really know exactly what happened, no matter what Natasha says. 

“He smells the crazy on you, does he?” Tony helps her with the bags. They sit together at the table on the first floor and start rifling through the paperwork. 

“He’s got a nose for crazy. How’s Bruce?”

“Fine. Didn’t even faze him. Peter was fast.” Tony pulls out anything with a photograph. After a few minutes, he gets to see Peter grow up. Every picture is as impersonal as the last. He’s crying in some. Bruised in others. He doesn’t smile. “Nothing lethal.”

“He wasn’t really scared.” Natasha is collecting arguably more important files. Training, blood test results, successful missions. She doesn’t find any failures. “I’ve seen some videos of what he can do. He’s dangerous.”

“He likes it here.”

“This was his best option. Going back to HYDRA isn’t a great one. Neither is running away. He made a strategic choice.” Her voice is cold. “You just happen to love him. I told him that he’s lucky.”

They play a game that Peter and Natasha both know in the living room. Peter hides a ring in his hands and pretends to pass it out to everyone, but only really gives it to Pepper. It’s almost impossible to tell since Peter has an amazing poker face when he needs to, but Pepper cracks a smile. They all chase after Pepper slowly and Peter is the one to tap her before she gets to the door. They play again and again until it’s clear that Peter and Natasha are just playing against each other, far too good to lose. 

Bruce forfeits first. Then Pepper joins him at the bar, and Tony can’t help but join his wife. They can’t play with only two, so the game ends in a tie. The three of them watch as they have quiet conversations entirely in Russian. It only ends when Peter starts to yawn and reach for Pepper. Pepper cradles him against her chest. He’s still her baby, even if he’s a somewhat brainwashed Russian agent. 

“Come, Tony. He should be in bed.” 

Peter looks like an angel in bed. He’s definitely asleep this time, head tipped back and snoring lightly. They still haven’t left his room while he’s asleep, opting instead to curl up on the floor or find space on his tiny bed. When Tony thinks back to this moment, he can’t believe how right Nat was. How lucky Peter is to be surrounded by such powerful people. People who really love him. 

People who would do anything for him.

Even turn into an enormous green rage monster for him. Maybe not entirely on purpose, but when an explosion rings out from the living room, it’s sort of a given. 

When the Hulk comes crashing into Peter’s bedroom, though? That’s a different story.


	8. Inconming

_Missile incoming. Ten seconds._ is all the warning they get. Well, not really. They also get Natasha’s cry of _Bruce!_ , but it’s eight seconds later, and that’s too late. The suit is already on Pepper by the time the Big Guy breaks through the wall, a dead Hydra Agent hanging limp from his fist. Tony’s suit finishes assembling and he goes to grab Peter, but the bed is empty. Right. His sixth sense. 

“Alright, Big Guy. Let’s dance.” Hulk just grins. As much as he wants to look for Peter, they need to divide and conquer. Natasha’s already taking down three agents in the destroyed living room. Even more are climbing up the wall and Tony shoots them down as they come. “Talk to me, Pepper. Where’s Peter? Oktober?”

“He’s on the south wall, outside. He must have snuck out of the window.” Peppers voice crackles over the intercom. “I’m leading Bruce down the stairwell. I think we’re going to have to re-decorate.”

“Anything you want, Potts. Nat, what’s the 4-1-1?” The last agent climbing up the wall throws a small round piece of metal at him quickly. It hits him, hooking into his suit and momentarily turning everything dark. “Shit!”

Nothing else hits him. When he finally pulls the device off and the lights come back on, it’s not Natasha snapping the neck of the man on the wall. It’s Peter. 

“The Big Guy’s not helping me out here. I think someone else’s pitching in.” Natasha doesn’t sound particularly upset. “Toss Peter in here. It’s empty, I’ll catch him.”

“Roger that.” Tony pulls Peter from the wall, ignoring the way he yelps. He twists in Tony’s grapes before recognizing the suit and going limp “Black Widow’s gonna catch you. Ready?” Peter nods before Tony tosses him into the rubble and quickly flies down to the base of the Tower just in time to see the Hulk smash his way out. 

“The Tower’s clear.” Pepper sounds breathless. “Peter’s not on the wall anymore.”

“Nat, I’m coming up. Pepper’ll take Peter. We need you with Bruce. Lullaby”

The handoff takes less than a minute. Peter crawls into Pepper’s metal arms and Natasha hops onto Tony’s back. They find Hulk in an alleyway, fists pounding into a brick wall. He’s only made it a few hundred feet from Stark Tower. Natasha drops down silently, landing behind the Hulk and hardly even catching his attention. He notices, of course, turning around with a roar and lifting a fist. Tony almost shoots. 

“Hey, Big Guy.” She reaches a hand out. “Sun’s getting real low.” Hulk reaches back. Banner reaches back. This isn’t something Tony has ever seen up close, and it’s fascinating. The more she speaks, the more he starts to whine, skin turning pale. In a matter of moments, he’s fleeing. Like a wounded animal looking for shelter. 

Bruce collapses in a heap a block away. Altogether, it’s a successful transformation, and she covers him with her sweater. 

Tony finds Pepper in the remnants of Peter’s bedroom, hugging her son like a lifeline. Peter looks equally frightened, eyes wide and hair comically upright, like he’s got the most goosebumps his body could manage. There’s a hell of a draft now. Nothing separates Peter’s room from the outside air. Not anymore. 

“You were born in California. I guess it’s about time to go back. Sort of a homecoming, if you think about it.” Tony touches down and steps out of the suit. Peter stays in the safety of his mother’s arms. 

“You _threw_ our son.” Pepper accuses. Peter looks equally offended. 

“Nat caught him.” Tony points out, sitting down on the dusty comforter. “Come here.” Pepper leans against him and Tony wraps his arms around the two, trying to slow his heart rate. They sit there for some time and listen to the sounds of the city. Sirens, mainly. Peter is the first to speak. 

“HYDRA came back.” His voice sounds scratchy, like he’s been crying. Or screaming. “Are they all gone? Are they going to come back again? That was so bad. So, so bad. What was that big thing? Where’s Doctor Banner? Where’s Natasha? I killed that guy, didn’t I? Am I going to jail? Where’s California?” Pepper shushes him and rubs his back, humming quietly. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. No one’s going to jail. I promise.” She assures him, glaring at Tony one last time (as if it’s his fault that HYDRA launched a rocket into their living room). “California is on the west coast. We have another house there. It might be a good vacation.” That’s the easiest question to answer. 

Peter’s face is pressed against the window of the private jet, eyes wide. He’s been glued to the side of the jet for fifteen minutes, refusing to stay strapped into his chair. Pepper is still trying to coax him into her lap, but Peter isn’t having any of it. 

“I never got to look out of the window before. How high up are we? How fast are we going? Are we still in New York? Do you really own this entire plane? How many more do you have? Can we do a flip?” He’s speaking so quickly. 

“Breathe, honey.” Pepper finally pulls him from the window and with the promise of gummy bears. They’re sugarfree, much to Tony’s disgust, and made from strawberries or some shit. Peter practically inhales them, looking to Tony for answers. 

“Four hundred thousand feet, eight hundred miles per hour, yes, yes, twenty” Tony doesn’t even look up. He knows that Peter is a Mama’s boy right now. Anything for the lady with food. “And, no, we can’t do a flip. Unless-”

“No, sweetheart, we can’t do a flip.” Pepper interrupts, finally strapping Peter into the chair next to her. “Unless you want to lose your lunch?” Peter frowns.

“I guess not. How much longer? Why isn’t Doctor Banner on the plane? Do you have more gummy bears?” As much as they feed him now, Peter’s mind still comes back to food. Banner guessed malnutrition. Natasha says starvation. Pepper just calls him a growing boy. Tony chooses to focus on how smart Peter is, how he finds everything fascinating, and how he expertly took down _five_ HYDRA agents without help. 

“Bruce doesn’t like enclosed spaces. Nat doesn’t like when he’s alone. They’re driving.” 

Peter launches himself off of his new bed and onto the ceiling, giggling when Doctor Cho gasps. He crawls over to Tony and drops down to land on his shoulders. 

“Alright, Kiddo. Feet on the ground.” Tony lifts him down. “He’s fast, too. Did Banner call?”

“Yes,” Evelyn nods, scrolling through some notes on her tablet. “I would recommend more tests, but I understand that you and Pepper aren't entirely comfortable with that?” He’s got to give it to the Doctor. They at least get that Peter has parents. 

“We’ve been getting some meat on his bones, that’s all. Making sure he’s growing.” Tony ruffle’s Peter’s hair and lets him run out of the room, keen to explore the rest of the Tower. “We have enough records from HYDRA for a lifetime.”


End file.
